Lost
by Hive
Summary: Harry Potter's friends, family and everyone he knew are dead. In fact, everyone is. Everyone in the world is dead. At the hands of one Tom Riddle. So if he kills Voldemort, what does he have to lose? Maybe… his world?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter one : Nothing at all

He was in a dark, musty cavern...

A pale face was illuminated in the darkness, a high mocking laugh accompanying it...

"This is it, Harry. It's only you and I. No others to hide behind, no running away from it this time, Harry. Come, meet the end!" Voldemort shouted, cackling maniacally.

"So it is, Tommy-boy. So it is. The question is, whose end shall it be?" Harry retorted calmly. He felt nothing, just a cold, empty darkness where his heart should have been. His wand flashed, and all the torches on the walls were lit, illuminating whites faces... Red hair... His friends, all cold and dead.

Voldemort's face twisted in fury. "My. Name. Is. Not. TOM!" he roared, and with a great fury, he uttered a dark incantation. All the dead bodies stood up. "Attack him," he said coldly.

They lurched towards Harry, and suddenly his cold, aching void was filled with pain, hot, unbearable, aching, unwanted pain. He screamed in pain as he sliced Hermione's head off, crying as he burned Ron's pale face. His heart felt like it was split in two as he was forced to destroy his dead friends, until only Ginny was left. Harry stared at her, and then burned his love to ashes. His heart broke.

Harry's breath came in pants, fogging the cold air. His burning pain quickly cooled to a cold fury as he remembered who had done all this.

Harry turned to Voldemort. "So now we know who was really hiding this whole time," he said shakily. Harry smiled, emotionless. "Why? Why do you hide, Tom? Is it because you're afraid of dying? Or is it because you are afraid of the truth? Why did you turn so dark, Tom?"

"For power!" Voldemort hissed angrily. Then he looked surprised that he had answered, before continuing, "Why else?"

"Perhaps because you were afraid of being normal? No different than anybody else? Ordinary? You aren't ordinary, Tom, but you aren't special. You might've been, but you aren't," Harry continued, his voice calm and collected. "Face it, Tom. You are just like every other Dark Lord that has risen. Madder, perhaps, more feared, perhaps, but not different."

Voldemort screamed in fury. And as he was screaming, Harry leapt forward and stabbed a dagger into his chest.

Voldemort's eyes opened wide in surprise. An aura of golden light haloed around the wound, growing brighter, until it consumed him completely and sucked Harry in.

There was no sign of Harry ever being there.

The cavern exploded. And outside of the cavern, the mountain exploded. Chunks of rock shot into the already ruined battlefield. Not that it could just be called a field. A wasteland stretched for what looked like miles. Except it didn't. The entire earth looked like this. There was nothing living here.

Nothing at all.

**A/N:**

**Yeah, so READ and REVIEW. I don't really expect anyone to read this, but hey, worth a try, right?**

**Right?**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two: A Death Eater named Perry

Crowds of people rushed past buildings, bustling this way and that, fighting through the mob to get to their destination. The epitome of a normal day in muggle London. Going deeper, further into a darker part of the city. Dark alleys, deep shadows. Whispers and plots, double dealing. The backstreets of London.

In a deserted alley (quite uncommon, usually there was some riffraff hanging about), a golden shower flashed into being, and from the black hole in the center, a young man burst out . He stumbled, holding a dagger in one hand.

The dagger was coated with blood. Thick, black blood.

* * *

Moments later, a young man stepped out of the alley. His long, leather coat flapping in the breeze, he strode away from the alley. Wrinkling his nose as he recognized where he was, he frowned.

Okay, Harry thought, right. So muggle London is miraculously rebuilt and I just have to show up in the most dangerous part of town. Great.

Harry shook his head. By rough estimate, he figured by following this path and turning left, he would probably be headed towards the Leaky Cauldron, and therefore wizard London to see what could have caused everything to rebuild itself.

As he pondered this, he was approached by one of the thieves that were common around the part of town he was in. Bumping into him and stealthily slipping his hand into Harry's jacket, the thief seized Harry's ...nothing?

Caught by surprise, the thief tried to slink away - and, without looking down, Harry's hand shot out to seize the other man's wrist.

The thief looked up, startled. When he saw Harry's face, his face tightened with surprise. "James?" he whispered hoarsely.

For the first time, Harry looked down. "Dung?" he questioned. There was no telling who it was under that grime.

Mundungus face plainly showed fear on it. "James, what're you doing here?"

"James?" Harry asked, puzzled. "It's Harry, Dung. Are you alright?"

Mundungus scowled. "Okay, James, you've caught me doing the wrong thing. Stop playing games."

Harry opened his mouth, confused.

A loud bang echoed throughout the night.

Harry's face twisted. He seized the front of Mundungus robes. "Who are you really, imposter?"

The other man's face clearly showed confusion. The it cleared, his eye's sharpening with suspicion. "You aren't James!"

A wand poked into Harry's back. He spun around, finding himself face to face with Antonin Dolohov. Harry growled. "You!" he growled, images of Mrs. Weasley falling to a green curse rippling through his mind. He lunged for the other man, heedless of the other lights flashing in the air, a death eater attack. "You should be dead. I killed you!" He shouted.

Dolohov whipped out his wand. "_Protego!"_ He yelled, blasting Harry back.

Harry got to his feet. "So that's the way you want to play it," he rumbled. "Alright then." Harry smiled, twin columns of flame appearing on both sides of him. They spun, hissing with heat, whirling towards Dolohov. Harry turned and ran. Midstep, he apparated with a pop.

* * *

Dolohov and Mundungus apparated suddenly into Grimmauld Place, panting and gasping for breath.

"Oh dear, what's wrong? Is everyone alright?" A short, red haired woman asked, bustling from the kitchen table. "No one dead, I hope," Molly Weasley said anxiously, wiping her hands on her dress.

Dolohov hauled Mundungus up, lunging towards the counter and slumping on a stool. With several more pops, other Order members apparated into the room, all in various states of disarray.

A red haired man gingerly sat down next to Dolohov. "Well," he said slowly, "That was an unusual battle."

"How so, Fabian?" Molly questioned, conjuring more chairs for the other Order members.

"It's Gideon, Molly. And as to your question, well, it started off normal enough. Death Eaters attack apparently helpless muggles, we're already there, begin firing curses, but strangely enough, it ended in a stalemate. All of the Death Eaters abruptly Disapparated!"

"And if that isn't enough, they leave behind two strange pillars of fire that keep chasing Dolohov and Dung here, destroying everything in their path. We couldn't even hinder them - the only way they stopped was because they evaporated on their own!" continued another, identical man.

"Really? Pray tell, Dolohov, Mundungus, do you happen to know why?" asked an old man - Dumbledore, striding into the room.

Dolohov shook his head several time to clear it. "Well. Ahem. It appears that there is a powerful new Death Eater in the ranks of Voldemort's followers," he paused.

"Go on then, Tony," cried a purple haired young witch. All the the Order's attention was now fixated upon the conversation.

"When I came upon him, the first spell had just been fired, the battle only just begun. He had Dung by his robes and was clearly angry. I poked my wand into his back, not sure if he was a muggle or not. It grabbed his attention and turned his fury to me. It then was clear that he was a wizard. When he saw my face, he went into a fit of rage; apparently he knew me from somewhere, and he did look rather familiar. He cried out something about how I should be dead and lunged at me. When I cast a shield charm to protect myself, he was blasted back. He then stood up, angry, conjured the pillars and Disapparated." Antonin told the other members.

"What do you remember, Mundungus?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

"W-well, I was patrolling the area, 'cause I was s'posed to, n' I though I pick a quick pocket. I bumped into a man, but he had nothing in his pocket. So's I tried to scurry away real fast, but he seized my wrist. I looked up and 'lo and behold, 'twas James!" Mundungus said quickly.

"What?" boomed a man from across the room, starting towards Mundungus.

"I mean, he looked a lot like him," Mundungus added, a little belatedly. "So's I was sayin' that he'd caught me, now let go, but he seemed to recognize me too, 'nd was surprised to see me there, not that I was pilferin'. He was a bit surprised to hear 'James' and said that he was 'Perry' or sumpthin' like that. He was rather nice until the first bang sounded. Then he asked who I really was and tried to strangle me." Mundungus finished thoughtfully.

The man from across the room sneered. "You'll have to excuse my skepticism. I have not heard of this Death Eater. Besides, the 'pillars of fire' would take an extraordinarily powerful wizard - someone possibly as strong as Dumbledore himself."

"Still, Severus, we must keep a lookout for this man, and possibly even alert the ministry to him," twinkled Dumbledore. "Mundungus, Dolohov, anything else?"

Mundungus paused for a moment. "Oh yeah, he did it all without a wand. Or incantation."

Cue strangled gasps.

**A/N:**

**For those of you that actually read this, please review. **

**And yes, indignant readers, I do know that Dolohov is a Death Eater and is like, 70 years old in canon. Duh. Just bear with me as I painstakingly work out the knots in the plot. **

**And no, he is not 70 in this fanfic. I'd say he's around The Marauders' age.**


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